


Worst Me

by vegapunkd



Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Kamen Rider Build, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death, author is terrified of the deep stuff and prefers shallow waters, author's vague attempts at humor, boys being bad at emotions but trying anyway, heavier tags are mostly for people who absolutely can't deal with them, in an "I don't care about the consequences" kind of way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegapunkd/pseuds/vegapunkd
Summary: “I know you’re awake.” That was Sento’s voice, and Banjou was getting a very bad feeling. “I know you’re awake and I’m really pissed at you right now.”aka Banjou has a Bad Day, which means Sento has a Horrible Day, and it makes Banjou's even worse.





	Worst Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to poke at a few things that the series implies, but never really goes into, and how those things might affect certain people. Takes place a few months post-merge.
> 
> For this particular story, my head canon is that the boys were sleeping together before the merge, but mostly in a "just need someone"/"never actually talked about it" kind of way. Post-merge, they haven't brought it up yet, and are probably flailing about in piney angst. As you do.

Banjou woke slowly, and reluctantly. Even just barely aware of himself, he could tell that he would regret it. There was a deep ache throughout his entire body, and even opening his eyes felt like a task of immense proportions at the moment.

  


Had he lost a fight? The last time he remembered feeling this bad had been when Sento had taken him out with a finisher to the head. But Sento had apologized for that, and he’d made it so Banjou wouldn’t lose control anymore. Then they’d fought Evolt again, and again, and Kazumin had died, Utsumi, Gentoku…

  


No, that was all the old world. Sento had made a new world, and Evolt was gone, Evolt was…

  


So what had happened?

  


“I know you’re awake.” That was Sento’s voice, and Banjou was getting a very bad feeling. “I know you’re awake and I’m really pissed at you right now.”

  


That sounded like a good reason to pass out again, honestly.

  


“Just fucking...open your eyes at least.”

  


A slight weight on Banjou’s chest that he hadn’t noticed until now shifted, and he dimly recognized it as a hand, Sento’s? He made an effort to do as Sento had asked, but things still weren’t quite connecting right.

  


“Dumbass.” Sento’s voice again, though it had lost some of its sharp edges. “We _agreed_ it was dangerous. Not even 24 hours ago, we sat here and said ‘Ok, let’s not do that again.’ You were very much against it, even.”

  


Yes. It...whatever _it_ was had hurt, and he’d been annoyed, because Sento had been fine, but it had felt like it was ripping him apart...ripping him…

  


“It’s not even important, just a-a dumb experiment. There was nothing riding on this. And you—you’re not, you’ve never _been_ a liar, so what the hell?”

  


There was a soft sound, and Banjou could picture Sento scrubbing his other hand through his hair. The one on Banjou’s chest remained, a finger tapping a soft rhythm.

  


“You’re not a liar,” Sento said again slowly, “so something else happened.”

  


Had it? Banjou was still coming up blank. He thought he remembered waking up this morning like normal, maybe he’d even gotten Sento to cook to make up for the damn experiment...then…

  


“What was it you said?” Sento asked, but he didn’t sound like he was expecting Banjou to answer. “It was like you were being ripped apart, like a ramen packet.”

  


Yeah, it had felt like that.

  


“Such a dumb comparison.”

  


Please move, Banjou thought at his muscles. Please move so I can hit this asshole.

  


They didn’t answer.

  


“Ripped apart, but it didn’t feel that way at all to me. I barely noticed the current. A number of various factors could have influenced that—height, weight,...diet.”

  


If he had to sit here unable to move and forced to listen to Sento lecture him about vegetables _again_ Banjou was going to scream. Mentally. Mentally scream, because that was all he could do right now.

  


Sento sighed. “That big of a difference though…it wouldn’t be a wild guess to say that your alien DNA reacted badly to something. Potentially the frequency of the current? I can’t imagine it would be the strength of it, you’ve taken a lot worse…”

  


At least Banjou (mostly) understood the vegetable lecture. Did he really have to listen to Sento math at him?

  


“So maybe it _was_ ripping you apart. Splitting your non-human parts from the rest of you. Maybe you figured that out? I’m honestly skeptical, but you were the one feeling it so maybe.”

  


He preferred the math to being slandered like this. But...something there rang true, there had been a feeling, like when Evolt had taken (or at least thought he’d taken) himself back from Banjou. A brief awareness of the separate parts of himself.

  


“So…what, you wanted that? Why else come back here and do it again? But...it’s clearly not that simple. That DNA wasn’t originally yours, but it’s been part of you since before you were born. Even Evolt wasn’t able to remove it, not all the way. And…” There was a pause, before Sento spoke again, quieter, “And I thought you were...not okay with it, maybe, but. I thought you’d mostly come to terms with it.” For a moment Sento’s thumb traced over the skin of Banjou’s neck, before moving back to his chest.

  


Honestly, Banjou mostly just tried not to think about it.

  


“But regardless, you were _fine_ this morning. Fine enough to complain about it, then complain about the eggs I made you _out of the kindness of my heart_.”

  


Sento had made them too sweet, of course. His generosity only extended so far, and he hadn’t been entirely convinced that he should take the blame for everything. Banjou had complained, sure, but he’d still eaten the damn eggs so whatever.

  


“Then you went to the cafe, and I went to my work. You texted me a gross picture of your food in your mouth at lunchtime because you’re a dick, I had to do some overtime, then...what? _Then what_ , you asshole, because then I got home and…”

  


Sento had asked what he was having for lunch, and Banjou had shown him. He didn’t see the problem. More of interest was the way Sento’s hand had suddenly gripped his shirt, and Banjou obliged him, trying desperately to remember. He’d been walking home, and then…

  


“We’re roommates. We’re...shit, we’ve been sleeping next to each other for more than a year now, all worlds included. I thought we were on the same page as far as etiquette was concerned.”

  


Eti-what?

  


“Never mind, you don’t even know that word do you? Manners, you asshole. Don’t leave your dirty dishes in the sink, leave my experiments alone, wash your own damn laundry…”

  


Sento was pretty bad at that last one anyway.

  


“Do we need to add a rule? A fucking, don’t—don’t...don’t be dead rule? Like, really? Of all the things you choose to be an idiot about, you forget to fucking breathe?” Sento’s voice cracked, and Banjou felt his stomach twist.

  


That...that was pretty bad. Banjou was pretty certain he hadn’t meant for that to happen. He definitely hadn’t meant to do that to Sento.

  


“I mean, I guess it’s under the “leave my experiments alone” rule, because you definitely broke the shit out of that one. Just put yourself in there and turned it on. I can’t even say you were an idiot and forgot it hurt, cause you tied yourself in. I had to cut you out before I could even try to get you breathing again and wow yeah I’m really pissed at you, did you forget that part? I didn’t.”

  


Sento’s fist thumped into Banjou’s chest, but he rubbed gently at the spot after, and Banjou felt an ache somewhere deeper.

  


“I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt and say maybe someone else did it to you, but not only does no one other than us know about this thing and how to use it —I’m kinda impressed you remembered, honestly—not only that, but they would have had to get the drop on you, and that’s...I don’t even know if I could do that, much less anyone else here.”

  


The machine had all of one big red button, Banjou wanted to protest. It wasn’t that hard. But this didn’t seem like the right time to be arguing over details. (Not that he could even if he wanted to).

  


Sento continued, “Plus no one knows us! At best they know you as the pro boxer. And he had a match today, a pretty big one if I understand correctly. Anyone who knows him would know where he would be.”

  


He’d been walking home. Walking home and he’d seen a TV in a shop window. And...

  


“He...he had a match today.” Sento seemed to have focused on that detail just like Banjou had. “Did you watch it? Did something upset you there? But you’ve watched his matches before… At first I thought you might hate to see them but. For some reason you seem to enjoy seeing him win against people you could knock out with one hit.”

  


The match had been on the TV, and he’d stopped to look, had heard—

  


“— _and the winner is the fan favorite, Banjou Ryuuga_!”

  


Sento had apparently found a stream of the match on his phone somewhere, and was watching it now.

  


“It’s weird how you two fight differently,” Sento remarked. “I guess he doesn’t have your raw strength so he’s had to rely more on technique.”

  


He doesn’t...he doesn’t…

  


The doorbell rang and Banjou made a valiant effort to jump (his body didn’t move in the slightest). Sento didn’t react either, to the point where Banjou wasn’t even sure he’d heard it, just kept re-watching the video of the actual fight. It rang again, and Banjou felt the hand on his chest tighten. Sento still didn’t move, until finally there was a loud banging.

  


“What now?” Sento muttered. He paused for a long moment as the banging continued, then sighed, slowly letting go of Banjou’s shirt. He tapped Banjou’s chest. “Remember, new rule.”

  


Sento left his phone playing next to Banjou, and Banjou didn’t realize that he’d left the room until he heard the sound of the front door opening, and voices talking. It sounded like their next door neighbor, a young girl just starting college. Banjou couldn’t make out what they were saying, and the voices seemed to get further away.

  


“— _and the winner is the fan favorite, Banjou Ryuuga_!” The video had reached this part again, and Banjou felt something in him twist in uneasy anticipation.

  


“ _Let’s talk to the champ, he’s surrounded by all of his supporters tonight, including his lovely girlfriend…”_

  


Banjou had grinned to see Kasumi looking so healthy still, and even more to see her smiling in excitement, then giggling as she’d scrubbed at her Banjou’s sweaty head with a towel.

  


“ _You must really be feeling good tonight, such a good match, and so many people here to see you!”_

  


_Who…?_

  


His head had tilted in front of the screen, recognizing most of the faces surrounding his other self. He tried not to be too bitter about that— there had been friends he’d lost for the fight fixing, and the rest he’d lost for the murder charge and okay, sometimes he wanted to shove Sento in their faces, say ‘this guy didn’t even know me and he still believed me!’ But maybe that was more to Sento’s credit than their demerit. And they belonged to this world’s Banjou anyway, so what did it matter?

  


(Sometimes he was still a little bitter.)

  


But there had been faces he didn’t know (sure) and then there had been…

  


_Who…?_

  


“ _You’ve come such a long way tonight to see your——“_

  


Banjou went hot, fire exploding in his chest and out into the rest of his body and it hurt so fucking bad and suddenly everything was connected again, but he _remembered_ , and before he could even begin to process anything his eyes were open, his body moving (fuck it hurt) to grab Sento’s phone and pitch it across the room. It hit the wall, then clattered to the floor, and Banjou panted, wavering in place where he stood. The video stopped playing, though it didn’t really matter at this point.

  


Fuck. Now he remembered, and he looked helplessly at the doorway where Sento had just appeared, staring back at him.

  


Actually able to see him now, Banjou felt even worse. Exhaustion had easily found its old home in Sento’s weary expression, and relief didn’t erase it completely.

  


“Sento, I…” he trailed off, unsure what to say. Then his legs buckled, and he made a startled noise at the brief falling sensation before his body jerked to a stop.

  


Sento had grabbed him, he was vaguely aware, but Sento was hissing in pain even as he pushed Banjou back to sit on his futon again.

  


They both stared at the red marks on Sento’s arms where Banjou had subconsciously grabbed on to Sento. Burns, Banjou realized, and he looked aghast at his hands. He’d felt the heat but it hadn’t manifested like this since the old world, and even then only once or twice that he could remember.

  


“Sorry, I’m—sorry…” he trailed off for a moment at the pinched look on Sento’s face. “Ah, your phone...sor—“

  


“Just stop,” Sento interrupted, looking more frustrated now. “That’s not what I want to hear right now.”

  


“You said you were mad,” Banjou pointed out, belatedly noticing the raspy edge to his voice.

  


“So you _were_ awake,” Sento’s eyes narrowed even as he shifted to sit cross-legged in front of Banjou. “If you were just screwing with me—” He stopped as Banjou shook his head.

  


“I couldn’t move at all,” Banjou explained, “then…” he glanced at the phone. “Everything got hot and I could.”

  


“You got upset,” Sento guessed, “and it triggered your alien DNA to finally kick in and start healing you properly.”

  


Banjou blinked at him. “Right,” he said finally. He watched Sento frown at him, his hand absently moving to rub at one of the burns. “I really am the worst me,” he murmured to himself, half-echoing a thought he’d had earlier in the evening.

  


Sento followed his gaze, then deliberately moved his hand down. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

  


Banjou shrugged, feeling more apathetic about everything than he had before. He pushed himself until his back was up against the wall, pulling his knees up in front of him. “I saw the match. Freaked out.”

  


“I figured that out already,” Sento sounded annoyed, but before Banjou could decide what to say, he’d leaned over and grabbed his phone. For a second he seemed about to play the video again, then he glanced at Banjou and stopped, instead just peering at where the screen had paused.

  


Banjou could see the realization on Sento’s face barely a moment later, and he had to look away, blinking back frustrated tears.

  


“They’re your—”

  


“I didn’t even _recognize_ them,” the words spilled out suddenly, and maybe he was still pretty upset. “And, shit, I really am an idiot aren’t I? You just—one look and you knew, and you never even _met_ them, and there I was on the street just staring at the damn TV cause I couldn’t figure out who my own parents were!” His throat had closed up on him at some point, and his words came out increasingly choked.

  


“That’s not fair,” Sento’s voice was a murmur. “You hadn’t seen them since you were young, and Evolt messed with your memories. It wasn’t hard for me to guess who they might be when seeing them messed you up this badly.”

  


Banjou just put his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth. He felt Sento move to sit next to him and spoke again.

  


“Did you _guess_ that I killed them?” He barely got the words out before Sento’s hand gripped his knee, hard enough to hurt.

  


“Stop it,” Sento sounded angry again. “You know you’re not him. Don’t you dare try to take credit for what he did.”

  


“He still did it because of me. They died because of me, didn’t they? I always just thought it was an accident, but here we are in a world without him and there they are, still alive 10 years later and-”his words came out in choked breaths, and he pressed his palms harder against his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. “I’m like, the worst me. Everyone around me got fucking killed just-just-”his voice broke completely into a sob, and then another, until he couldn’t stop them from coming anymore, wave after wave of pent-up grief finally spilling free.

  


It was like he’d been packing everything that had happened the past few months somewhere deep inside his chest, and the shock of seeing his parents again—seeing them alive and well in this world where he shouldn’t exist—had blown everything open. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to begin to deal with it, just let it bowl him over and wash him away. Maybe this would do what the machine couldn’t—split him apart, wring the bad out of him and leave him something a little closer to the guy on the TV screen. It certainly felt painful enough, gasped breaths an agony for his already strained body.

  


But no, as much as it felt like he was shaking apart, he could feel Sento pressed against his side, arm tight around his shoulders. Sento would hold him together, he knew, would keep him in one piece, however oddly shaped that piece was. Maybe things were better this way then, if that’s what Sento wanted. Banjou couldn’t quite see how, but Sento was usually patient enough to explain things until Banjou understood. Maybe he’d explain this too.

  


So Banjou did his best to stay in one piece, weathering the storm until his lungs stopped heaving and his eyes stopped leaking. It felt like ages before he could breathe properly again, but finally it passed and he was left exhausted. The denim of his jeans was damp, made even more so when he wiped his face on it. He wasn’t quite up to feeling embarrassed about his reaction, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn and face Sento either.

  


“Sorry,” he said again, and Sento made an annoyed sound. “I know–you’ve got, you had parents too, but now they’re probably Katsuragi’s, right? If...if they’re alive. You can’t see them anymore either. Sorry I’m so selfish, when you’re in the same boat.”

  


Sento sighed, and rested his head against Banjou’s shoulder. “They’re alive. Takumi too, and they’re doing just fine. And yeah, it’s frustrating, but as long as they’re happy, I can’t really complain.”

  


Banjou slumped a little, but Sento’s grip didn’t let him go too far.

  


“You don’t need to apologize though. None of those things are your fault, and just because this particular thing upset you more than it upset me, that doesn’t matter. Especially since our situations are different. And don’t act like you wouldn’t be getting a lot more sleep if I didn’t, didn’t wake you up every other night, like…”

  


Sento fumbled with his words, but Banjou knew he meant the nightmares. It had only been a few days ago that Banjou had had to talk Sento down after his latest one, and he was still having to drag Sento to bed most nights, or let his partner work himself into exhaustion. He didn’t begrudge Sento for it, hadn’t realized that it was something Sento felt guilty about.

  


Sento’s fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm against Banjou’s back.

  


“I know this is hard. We made a better world and we’re the ones who got kinda screwed over by it for everyone else’s sake. It can’t be helped, we’re the heroes.”

  


Banjou snorted, and Sento made a satisfied sound before he moved, pushing at Banjou until he could look him in the eyes.

  


“But yeah, it’s hard and things are gonna throw you for a loop. You’ve let me lean on you a lot the past couple months, and I appreciate it, but we’re _partners_ here, and I need you to trust me.”

  


“I do!” Banjou protested, “I just… panicked. I wasn’t thinking.”

  


He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten back to the apartment, only remembered being shell-shocked and shaky. He was pretty certain he’d crashed right into their front door before getting it open, the pain a dull shock to his system. Then he’d thrown himself at his sandbag, pounding it until his entire body had started to feel hot.

  


_Evolt killed them_ , he’d been thinking. _Evolt killed them, and he’s a part of me._ Then he’d remembered the machine, and...

  


“It was like...I knew it was there and suddenly I couldn’t deal with that anymore, I wanted it _gone_.” He rubbed his thumb over his wrist, tracing the veins there with his nail. Sento’s hand came into view, carefully nudging his hand under Banjou’s own and tugging it away.

  


“I get it, I do. But please. Something like this happens again, you gotta call me, or just come find me, okay? Make that your first instinct. It doesn’t matter what or why or how dumb you think it is. Just come talk to me, tell me what you’re gonna do, so we can do it together or I can call you out before you do something dangerous.”

  


Banjou nodded slowly, feeling guilt well up in his chest again. Sento hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’ll do the same, okay? I...mostly let my subconscious self handle all my trauma, and you’ve had to deal with more than your fair share of that, but still. If it happens, I’ll come find you.”

  


Banjou nodded a bit more firmly this time. It was easier, if this was something they both needed.

  


Neither of them spoke for a moment, then Banjou watched as Sento reached out again, carefully resting his hand against Banjou’s chest.

  


“For what it’s worth,” Sento said quietly, looking down so Banjou could only see his hair covering his eyes, “this you, worst you or not...This you got us through a lot, and if you were that guy on the TV, you wouldn’t be here with me now. And maybe it’s _me_ being selfish, but...I’m really glad you’re not him.”

  


Some bits of Banjou that had been jolted out of place seemed to slot themselves back into their proper spots, and he sucked in a breath at the sudden warmth in his chest. He frantically tried to come up with something to deflect before he broke down again.

  


“You say that,” he managed finally, “you say that, and yet...and yet, the whole time I was, like, having a fucking breakdown, you were just sitting here taking my braids out!” He’d been vaguely aware of it, but the motions had felt nice enough that he hadn’t said anything.

  


Now he frowned in mostly put-on indignation at Sento, who pulled his hand back, letting the other fall open to reveal three rubber bands in his palm. He looked down at them, then shrugged. “Maybe I think you’d look better this way.” His voice was calm, but Banjou could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

  


Banjou considered that for a moment then scowled. “You didn’t even realize you were doing it, did you?”

  


“Not til halfway through the second one,” Sento muttered, red reaching his face now. “Then I figured I had to finish.”

  


“Are you really that bad at sitting still?”

  


“I said I was sorry!”

  


“...No you didn’t.”

  


“Oh. Well…Huh.”

  


“That’s when you’re supposed to say it you asshole!”

  


“Hmm. Changed my mind.”

  


“At least give the bands back—ow! Shit!”

  


“...Well I hope you’ve learned your lesson about touching my stuff.”

  


“I get it, now help me up...Damn it Sento!”

  


“If you can’t get up on your own, you should probably stay in bed.”

  


“Argh!”

  


Banjou flopped into the pillow, regretting the harsh movement as everything throbbed for a moment. He couldn’t even get mad at anyone else for this.

 

“This sucks,” he muttered. Then he froze, distracted from the pain by the briefest press of lips to his temple.

  


Sento didn’t say anything after that, just slipped out of the room. Banjou watched him go, resisting the urge to run his fingers over his temple.

  


Banjou had Evolt’s DNA, and his parents had died, had been _killed_ when he was young. He’d lost all his friends when he’d gotten arrested for a crime he’d been framed for. He’d gone to prison, and been experimented on, then escaped only to lose Kasumi too. He probably wasn’t going to make the top 50 list of Banjous.

  


But Sento had believed him, had kept on believing in him even when Banjou had screwed up. Sento had become one of Banjou’s most important people, and, for some reason, claimed Banjou as one of his.

  


_Maybe I’m not the worst me,_ he thought to himself. _Shit, maybe I’m a pretty decent one._ Amused by the thought, he didn’t bother to try and hide the soft smile on his face.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)   
> I tweet at rinkufan and tumble at vegapunkd


End file.
